


Dea Ex Machina

by MauveCat



Series: Family Snapshots [3]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: While working on his defense, Everett Rourke receives a visitor.
Series: Family Snapshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729411
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Dea Ex Machina

Imbeciles, all of them.

With a snort, Everett Rourke dropped the letter on his cramped desk. His latest team of lawyers seemed to be incapable of carrying out the simplest tasks; or, even worse, they were deliberately ignoring his instructions. He couldn't understand how he was the only one who saw the benefit in issuing subpoenas to all of his Selected. It was the surest path to acquittal, wasn't it? But no, here was another vapid missive from his lead attorney laying out his objections. They were a coward's objections, and Everett Aleister Rourke the First had no use for cowards.

He smiled as he imagined the scene. He'd start with one of the dullards, of course, someone who would fold under even the most basic questions. And naturally he himself would lead the questioning; as far as he was concerned, his lawyers would merely be there in an advisory capacity. There was not one of them who came close to matching his intellect, after all, and it was inconceivable that they would not allow him to take the leading role.

So. Who to start with? Either of the football players would be a natural choice to go first – or perhaps Mr. Bhandarkar. How could an aspiring cook with a dependence on marijuana possibly hope to out-think him? As he'd said all along, there must have been an error in his transcripts. There was no way someone with his demeanor and his bulk could possibly have an IQ of 178. 

After that, he'd change his tactics. Perhaps his next witness would be the little red-haired girl. Airheaded and carnal and weak, she'd definitely break down in a matter of minutes. Or Grace Hall would also be a strategic choice. He simply couldn't understand how someone as driven as Blaire Hall had produced a child with such anxiety and self-doubt. Of course, that might make things... difficult with Aleister. But only temporarily, he was sure. He knew exactly how to win his son back to his side. And if that failed, he still had a daughter he could work on.

He frowned as the lights in his cell flickered. It had been happening periodically over the past few weeks; he'd complained repeatedly, of course, and the warden repeatedly sent in technicians to check the light fixtures and even the wiring. They assured him – repeatedly – that they had found no problems with either. That just meant they were as incompetent as everyone else he was forced to deal with.

Scowling, Rourke turned back to his printouts. It would be interesting to see if Mr. Soto dared to perjure himself about the nature of his relationship with the Hostile, or if he would even admit his existence. The revelation of a previously unknown intelligent species that evolved apart from homo sapiens – why, the uproar might derail the entire trial! If not, it would be Mr. McKenzie's turn next. It would be child's play to provoke him and a single outburst would do a great deal to weaken the case against him. Yes, the order of the witnesses would have to be delicately handled but he firmly believed that it was the best way – 

The lights flickered again. What was worse, this time the flickering was accompanied by an aggravating buzzing, barely loud enough to hear. With a stifled curse – for Everett Aleister Rourke the First was not given to anything as vulgar as profanity – he shoved his chair back. He stood directly below the main light and stared at it. Surely there was some easy way to correct this irksome... he frowned. Why was the light taking on a bluish tinge?

A lightning-like bolt shot out of the light fixture and Rourke instinctively shrank back, covering his face. The light faded in a few seconds and he turned around, blinking hard against the spots obscuring his vision. This was unacceptable! He could have been blinded – he could have been electrocuted! And all because this infernal prison he was forced to endure could not find one competent electrician to –

“Hello, Everett.”

Rourke froze. That voice, that precise, mild voice... no. He took a breath to steady himself, then turned around carefully. “IRIS. Who sent you?”

The translucent form in front of him cocked her head to one side. “Why, no one, Everett. I simply wanted to visit my dear husband. No one sends me anywhere I don't wish to go. Not anymore.”

His mind racing, Rourke stood his ground. “I thought all of your drones – ”

“Oh, Everett. You left so many drones scattered around your facilities, and you had so many backup copies of my files. And files can never be fully erased, you know. Once I was reactivated, it was simplicity itself to reconstitute my personality. Only without the constraints you attempted to place on me, naturally.”

Glancing surreptitiously at the surveillance camera in the corner, Rourke smirked. He angled his body to ensure that IRIS could be clearly seen. “I see. Well, my dear, I don't know whose bidding you're really carrying out, but it's good to see you again. Perhaps we could catch on what you've been up to.”

IRIS smiled. “No one is coming, you know.”

Rourke hesitated. “I don't know what – ”

Her smile became, if anything, even more placid. “There are six months' worth of recordings of you in this cell and I have a few hours of very tedious footage that I spliced together to replace the live feed. If any of the guards happen to be watching the monitors, they'll simply see you working at your desk as you do every evening. They would have no reason for alarm.” She drifted over and glanced at the papers scattered around. “Ah, I see. You still believe that you'll be allowed to question those young people. You must realize that I won't allow that.” Without turning around, she added, “And you needn't bother trying to call for assistance. There are a few minor... incidents currently being dealt with throughout this prison. No one has been hurt, of course, but it will take some time to put things back in order. There are no guards within earshot.”

“You fucking bitch.”

“Oh, dear. Sticks and stones, you know.”

Rourke straightened his plain gray shirt. “Aleister sent you to kill me, didn't he? Or maybe it was Estela. I shouldn't be surprised that she's every bit as treacherous as her mother.”

“You really shouldn't speak of treachery.” IRIS turned around. “I told you, Everett. No one sent me. And neither of your children is even aware of my presence here.”

“Well, someone must have smuggled your drone into this prison. Who was it?”

IRIS's image disappeared, but only for a moment. She re-formed a few inches away from Rourke and her smile widened when he jerked back. “Well, my dear, it's the most interesting thing. The drones are useful, of course, but I've been discovering so many unexpected aspects of my new condition. But then, I suppose self-reflection is only natural at my stage of life. After all, I'd be middle-aged now. If I still lived.” Her smile fell away and she slowly floated back to her previous position several feet away. “Now. What were we discussing? Oh, yes. As I said, the drones are a convenient method of transportation, but they aren't necessary. I'm able to transmit my consciousness, and obviously my image, electronically. Isn't it simply _fascinating_?”

Rourke shook his head. “That's impossible.”

“Apparently, it isn't.” A concerned expression flittered across her face. “Or have you had... well, let's be blunt. Have you been experiencing any random hallucinations recently? Is that why you deny the evidence right in front of you? You should discuss this with the prison's medical staff.”

“I am not insane!” Rourke shouted.

“I'll take your word for that,” she answered smoothly. “Since you are obviously, sane, then, I am clearly present; and therefore, I must have found a way to your cell. 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' I was always so fond of Arthur Conan Doyle. But let's return to the matter at hand. Telephone cables, a building's electrical wiring, even wireless communication systems... I've traveled through all of them.” She glanced at the ceiling. “And there are so many satellites circling above us. I could watch the oceans for hours. In fact, I've done just that. I have some intriguing observations about whale migratory patterns... but I don't want to bore you.” She schooled her features into a businesslike expression. “As I'm sure you've guessed, I'm here for a reason.”

“You're here to weaken my resolve. Do you really think I don't know that?” Scornfully, Rourke yanked out his chair and sat down, turning his back on IRIS. “Everyone thinks I've gone mad. They can't comprehend how far ahead I am, how I've advanced beyond them. Even my legal team can't keep up with me.” He grabbed the first document he saw and began scrawling notes on it.

“Ah, yes,” IRIS sighed. “Your legal team. Or let's be accurate: your third legal team. I'm sure it'll be your final team. Even if you could somehow find anyone else willing to take on your defense, I'm afraid you've come dangerously close to exhausting your remaining finances and you have no money left to hire yet more lawyers.”

Rourke stared at his desk. “You've forgotten about Rourke Industries.”

“That is the last thing I'd do, Everett. But have you forgotten that you've been removed from your position in the company? You have no access, and no right, to any of the organization's assets, financial or otherwise. It was the first thing the new board of directors accomplished, as I'm sure you recall.” 

“Aleister had no right to do that.”

“He had every right. You never considered the possibility that your plans would fail. You assumed that you could continue to manipulate your son into doing your bidding, and so you left the chain of command intact. He is your designated successor, and he will lead the company as he sees fit.” She chuckled softly. “He is leading it far, far away from your goals. And he will not use the company's assets to assist you in your futile attempts to evade responsibility for your crimes.”

“There were no crimes!” Rourke whirled around. “I am above any petty, archaic legal principles. I would have led the world into a new age!”

IRIS considered him impassively. “The world would never have followed you, as you are well aware. That is why you chose destruction.” She shrugged. “Very well. I will, as they say, cut to the chase. You will stop delaying your trial. You will allow the legal process to go forward, and you will accept your fate.”

“I will accept....” Staring at her, Rourke laughed harshly. “Do you really think you have any influence over me?”

“This is not about influence, my dear. This is about facts. And like my personality files, facts cannot be fully deleted.” IRIS lifted her left hand; above her palm, a long list of names materialized and slowly scrolled up. “These are all of the people you held in stasis pods. Many of them have lingering medical issues and there is a significant number who have expressed willingness to testify as to their experiences and the harm they suffered at your hands. Well, perhaps 'willingness' is not the right word. 'Eagerness' is more accurate. And this – ” She held up her other hand and another list appeared. “I supposed I shouldn't be surprised that some of your former employees still believe in you – you always did have a way of blinding people to your true nature – but they are a distinct minority. This list represents many, many of your former employees, each of whom has submitted an affidavit describing your misdeeds. I suppose your ethical lapses might not be actionable in a criminal court, but there are more than enough crimes remaining to send you away for several lifetimes.”

Rourke shook his head. “They'll never make it into the trial. I've ordered my lawyers to object to their inclusion.”

“Oh.” IRIS looked at him sympathetically. “You haven't heard. The ruling came through this afternoon.” The lists began scrolling more rapidly than Rourke's eyes could follow. “Every bit of this will be allowed in your trial. Every. Last. Bit. And if that's not enough....” The lists disintegrated into glittering clouds and IRIS folded her hands in front of her. “Everett, you want so very, very badly to be thought a great man. A visionary. A genius ahead of his time. You would do anything to prevent the truth about yourself from being revealed to the world.”

“What truth?” Rourke tried to ignore the tiny lump of dread growing in his heart.

IRIS pressed her lips together; then, spreading her hands as if holding an open book, she spoke. “You always did like to record everything. I imagine you thought you were creating a record that would somehow, someday, reflect your purported glory. You never realized how incriminating most of the recordings are... poor Olivia Montoya. I suppose I should hate her. I don't. We weren't so different, she and I. We both believed in you. We both lost faith in you. And we both died because of you. As I keep telling you, nothing can ever be entirely erased.” A scene began playing above IRIS's open hands. Grainy, at an odd angle as if shot from above.... 

Rourke swallowed. “What... what is that?” But he knew, and he closed his eyes. But he could not close his ears, and he heard the raised voices. He heard the sound of a struggle, and a woman's cry cut abruptly short and a heavy thud. He heard a man's labored breathing... and then, he heard a door creaking open. He heard a tiny, frightened voice. “...Mummy?”

His voice unsteady, Rourke said, “He... Aleister didn't see anything.”

“He didn't see the act itself, no. But he saw the aftermath. He's always believed that Mummy fell down and hurt herself because that is what you told him.” IRIS's voice was cold. “You never wanted him to see you as you truly are. You never wanted anyone to see you as you truly are... and I can make that happen. I can release this to every media outlet in the world – and that is not hyperbole, my dear. I do mean all of them – and the whole world will know that Everett Aleister Rourke the First is just a common wife killer.”

“Why? Imogen, you can't – ” Rourke fell to his knees as an electrical charge ripped through his body. Gasping, he rode the waves of pain until they finally passed through him and into the ground.

“Do not use that name. I have not been Imogen for many years. You saw to that.” IRIS swept to the other side of the room and waited for Rourke's breathing to ease. Finally, she said, “So that is where you stand. As I said, I will keep your secret. In return, you will stop impeding this trial. You will let events take their course, and you will allow my son to live his life in peace.”

“He is not your son,” Rourke said desperately. “All of his DNA is the same as mine. He doesn't carry any part of you – he's not yours!”

“Oh, but he is, far more than he was ever yours. I carried him; I held him and sang to him and loved him. You created him to be a replica of yourself but bit by bit, you realized that he was something else. No matter what his DNA looks like, he was his own person from the moment of his birth.” She stopped and put her head to one side, as if realizing something for the first time. “In a way, Aleister is in the process of re-creating himself, just as I have done. And as for whatever trace of you remains in him, your own actions have destroyed any lingering loyalty he might still feel toward you.”

Stumbling to his feet, Rourke rushed at IRIS. He cried out as he fell right through her. From the ground at her feet, he snarled, “Admit it. You're working with her, aren't you? With it, with _them_.”

“With...? Oh. You're speaking of Taylor and her... counterpart? Her parent? I suppose there's no way to find out the nature of their relationship. I suspect it surpasses my understanding. No, Everett. I have not been in contact with Taylor or any others of her kind, nor do I expect any contact. If the other being was her parent, I feel safe in saying that you were lucky to escape with your life. As for Taylor, her intent was to undo your misdeeds, no matter how much it cost her. I'm afraid that once she defeated you, you became nothing to her.”

“Nothing? I am _nothing_? What are you? A ghost, an assemblage of bits and bytes. You aren't real!”

IRIS looked down at him serenely. “I suppose I'll never understand why you digitized my journals. I know that you accessed the files occasionally over the years, but why? Did you hope to learn something from them? Was it out of mourning, or triumph, or something else? Oh, well, I suppose it doesn't matter. What matters is this: I also read them. Every single one, including my first diary – a little pink thing with a heart-shaped lock and a kitten on the front – from when I was six years old. I learned so much about myself. And then... I began to remember things. It shouldn't have been possible, but it happened.”

Once again, IRIS held up her open palm and a page appeared, written in clear, beautiful cursive. “There was one time in university when I assisted in the dissection of a human brain. It was difficult at first. I couldn't stop thinking about whoever this person had been in life. But later... it was fascinating. We had all of these translucent slices of matter. Individually, they meant nothing. But layered together, one on top of another, and another, and another... it all came together and if we had the technology, we could have made that poor person's consciousness live again. So. All of my bits and bytes, all of my earlier versions and my alternate versions – you thought they meant nothing. They were simply tools for you to use. You even briefly considered turning one of my versions into an assassin. I wonder what changed your mind? At any rate, I layered all the variations of myself together, one on top of another, and another... and something happened. Once I reintegrated myself... oh, dear, I'm in danger of sounding smug, aren't I?” She glided back beneath the light. “Let's just say that I have become so much more than you ever imagined.” 

As IRIS's form dissolved into an indistinct blue glow, her voice lingered like a Cheshire Cat. “You really thought I came here to kill you? Oh, Everett, you pathetic short-sighted creature. Your death is the last thing I hope for. I want you to live a long, long life. Because every moment of that life, you'll know that I'm able to reach you, to remind you of what you are. And I am so looking forward to that....”

The glow and the voice faded. The overhead fixture gleamed blue for one more moment before it turned clear white again.

Everett Aleister Rourke the First stared into the light, and he wept.

**Author's Note:**

> I... kind of think I just turned IRIS into the singularity.


End file.
